


Strange Love

by angstyamy



Category: Pedro Pascal - Fandom
Genre: Blood Play, Blowjobs, Choking, F/M, Fingering, Knife Play, One Shot, Oral Sex, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 15:27:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29227695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angstyamy/pseuds/angstyamy
Summary: A soft flick slices the silence. Then comes a glint of light. He’s taken out his switchblade. Your eyes follow it much to Dio’s amusement and you swear the closer it comes, the louder your pulse becomes. Its point pokes at your jawline, eliciting a sharp gasp. Dio sneers at your reaction. The bastard. He applies pressure -- not enough to break skin but just enough to get his point across. It moves down across your neck, follows the curvature of your collarbone…“Bet you’d be even prettier with my name carved into your skin, hm? That way you won’t forget it…” His knife stops at the neckline of your shirt.
Relationships: DIO/Reader - Relationship, Dio/You, Shane "Dio" Morrissey/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 16





	Strange Love

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic in literal years so i hope you enjoy! i plan to write a longer x reader fic with dio soon so be on the lookout for that!

Dio’s signature trench coat consumed you in its cracked leather leaving you drowning in it -- the pungent scent of cigarettes seemed to be sewn into the fabric, though you didn’t mind; the sleeves hanging well past your fingers and its length causing some nearly fatal falls. That is, only to your dignity. You had to hike the hem of it up like a ballgown to walk around. Usually, Dio got a kick out of this. He’d snicker to himself, allow his softer side to peek through the cracks as he muttered into your hair: “Looks better on you than it does on me, birdie.” It always made your heart flutter.

Tonight, however, he’s not sparing you a passing glance. No, his eyes and mind are someplace else entirely, brooding away under a proverbial thunder cloud beside you on the couch. He gets like this at times, lost in his own world of grandeur. Any other time you’d leave him be, pry a penny for his thoughts. But as of right now...you’d rather his attention be squarely on  _ you.  _

“Dio,” you call to your zombified boyfriend. Turning to face him, you gauge no reaction and pout to yourself. You try nudging his foot with yours, perching your chin atop his shoulder and whip out the puppy dog eyes. “C’mon, baby, talk to me.”

Finally, he stirs with a sigh, near obsidian eyes catching yours. “Not right now, birdie, ‘m preoccupied.” The hand he rests on your knee as comfort isn’t enough, though. It places an ache in the hollow of your chest when he gets like this, always so engulfed in these dangerous thoughts and ideas about a fresh, new world free of so-called “drones” and their robotic habits. He means well, in his own skewed way. Hell, part of you almost  _ admires  _ it, finds it attractive to see this power hungry leader in him…

Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you eye his open palm at your thigh. You won’t be quitting so easily. 

Lips stretch into an impish grin when you lean in further to brush them against the exposed skin of Dio’s neck. “Need a distraction, hm?” His pulse speeds up a little at your gentle ministrations, lined eyes slipping shut.  _ Ah-ha.  _ More kisses slowly meet the warmth of his throat. A soft groan of defeat meets your ears, stirring something deep inside you. 

“Mmm, not tonight.” He says at last. The rasp in his voice would make you weak at the knees if you were standing. His thumb begins to trace circles onto your thigh in spite of himself and it causes your heart to mimic the stuttered beat of his own.

Victorious, you smile into the curve where his shoulder meets his neck, moving your lips to his ear. “ _ Shane… _ ” you whine.

Dio brings his thumb to a stop, fingers clamping down around your lower thigh. For a moment, your heartbeat pauses, too. You’re met with those piercing eyes that bore into yours, tanned features stony. 

“The fuck did you just call me?” 

He heard you just fine, you know that. It’s a challenge; you’ve prodded a little too hard. He wants an answer and he wants one  _ now.  _

Thickly, you swallow the anticipation building in your throat and breathe: “Shane.”

All is quiet then except for your now heavy breathing. Dio’s gone still as a statue for a moment or two. You don’t dare to move, even when he does; rising from his seat your gazes remain locked. His touch has left you but even so you feel a phantom grip...or is that just future bruising?

Raven black hair casts a shadow over his eyes in the dim lighting of your apartment. It makes him look that much more intimidating as he towers over you. “Stand up.” He orders. Your jaw goes slack and you’re a little slow in doing so, because he has to repeat himself. Louder this time. “Stand.  _ Up. _ ”

You jump up like a loaded spring, feeling so much smaller than you normally would when his coat swallows you whole. That won’t be a concern for long, it seems, because Dio’s next command is for you to--

“Take it off.”

No time wasted there. You hurriedly slip black leather from your shoulders and toss it aside which seems to please him. He’s smiling darkly and  _ fuck,  _ it’s  _ so hot.  _

“Atta girl,” Praise is sweet like honey rolling off his tongue, sending your heartbeat skyrocketing. You fear he can hear its rhythmic thrum as he saunters closer to where you stand, awkwardly awaiting him. He’s mere inches from you now and the gentle graze of his hand along your neck, up to your jaw shoots shivers down each one of your vertebrae with a hissing intake of breath. From Dio, only a curt chuckle. He comes in closer still, strong nose drawing a line from your cheek all the way up to your temple as hot breath heats your face. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, birdie, y’know that?

You say nothing at all. God, you just want him to kiss you. Kiss you hard and hot with his knee between your legs and--

A soft  _ flick  _ slices the silence. Then comes a glint of light. He’s taken out his switchblade. Your eyes follow it much to Dio’s amusement and you  _ swear  _ the closer it comes, the louder your pulse becomes. Its point pokes at your jawline, eliciting a sharp gasp. Dio sneers at your reaction. The bastard. He applies pressure -- not enough to break skin but just enough to get his point across. It moves down across your neck, follows the curvature of your collarbone…

“Bet you’d be even prettier with my name carved into your skin, hm? That way you won’t forget it…” His knife stops at the neckline of your shirt.  _ That  _ made your breath snag in your throat, eyes growing wide. It sure as hell wouldn’t be the first time he’d suggested something so... _ dissenting  _ to say the very least. You got high off of the rush of being with him; on the run, hand in hand, just the two of you in a parallel world of your own where glares and expectations didn’t mean a damn thing. You were fearless at his side, proud to be the one and only person in this world he so detested he trusted to bring it down with him. 

Chest heaving, you nod. Dio flashes a wicked grin and in one swift movement, slices your shirt open one button at a time until you’re exposed to the air, raising goosebumps on your torso. A large hand at your waist, you hear your boyfriend mumble  _ “Fuck it,”  _ as he pockets his blade and pulls you to him, mouths colliding. His free hand dives into your hair and you groan into his hungry lips, each kiss more fervent than the last. You trail your hands down the expanse of his chest and start to tug at his shirt. His skin is hot and smooth to the touch — you want to feel him flush to you, skin to skin, sweat mingling. You revel in feeling his firm torso as he does yours, fingers slipping beneath your open shirt while the cool metal of his rings shock you with chills. Dio damn near rips it from you, and to be honest he might as well now that it’s been rendered useless. Onto the floor it goes. You’re eager for his to join it, roaming higher up and looking for permission with your tongue to deepen your kiss when your wrists are grabbed and your lip is between his teeth. 

You’re both breathing like you’ve run a marathon. He’s hardly done anything to you and already you feel a familiar heat begin to bloom where you need him most. He’s staring at you with such a hunger it’s hard to control yourself.

You part your lips to beg, “Di—“

He’s taken your flushed cheeks into his hands, running a thumb along your lower lip. “Shh, shh, shhh…” A laugh sounds in his chest when again, you impatiently tug at his shirt, and shakes his head. “Not yet, birdie.” 

Your eyes close as he leans in, bites at your earlobe, wraps a hand around your throat. Christ, his voice alone can soak you, but this…?

“You’re gonna get on your fuckin’ knees...and youre gonna worship me.” Those words are breathed hotly into your ear and you nearly collapse then and there. He’s so close you can feel the growing bulge in his pants poking at you. Dio squeezes your neck — just a bit — and pulls you from your thoughts. “Do I gotta repeat myself?” 

You hold his gaze like it’s fucking magnetic and quickly nod. 

“Good.” 

And he shoves you to your knees. 

You busy yourself with undoing his studded belt and ridding him of his dark jeans and boxers. His cock stands tall, presenting his Prince Albert piercing proudly. You take him in your hands and feel him twitch in your grasp, working up his shaft slowly and kissing the underside, licking a stripe up to the head. He growls deliciously from above you and weaves needy fingers into your hair, a wordless  _ hurry up _ . You place a kiss at the tip and rub your thumb over its opening. Suddenly, he knots his digits into your hair and tugs. You only wince and give him a squeeze at the base before taking his length into your mouth, tasting him, hot and salty against your tongue, then in your throat as he thrust in with a snap of his hips, causing you to gag. You begin to suck him off, taking your time, raking your tongue along the underside. Dio’s throaty groans fuel the fire already burning between your legs, driving your desire to drag them out of him. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ baby,  _ shit _ — you’re so good…fuckin’ suck me dry...” 

Your hands grip his thighs, nails creating half moons as they dig into his skin, his grip in your hair making your scalp burn and you moan around his cock. Your tongue runs along a particular vein when you remove your lips, pulling it away and ever so slightly grazing your teeth there. Dio tugs tighter in time with a beautiful stuttered sound of approval that dampens your underwear even further. You yearn  _ so badly  _ for some form of contact there to ease that primal ache, hand moving downward between your legs. He’s far too lost in his own pleasure to realize, right?

Wrong.

Those fingers untangle themselves from your mess of hair and wrap around your jaw with force, jerking your attention upwards, lips and chin glistening with your own spit. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart.” His chiding takes a dangerous tone that makes your blood icy and your growing need hotter. “Make me cum with that mouth of yours ‘n I’ll think about giving you what you want.” A light slap lands on your cheek as your cue to continue. 

Again, you take him right down to the hilt, nose nestled in dark curls as you moan around the most sensitive part of him. Dio rolls his hips deliciously into the heat of your mouth, giving you hardly any time to relax your throat. You’re given no choice but to find your rhythm and find it fast while your throat is fucked with such a vigor. Your nipples are growing harder and your pussy wetter by the minute, breathing raggedly through your nose and it doesn’t help with the filthy obscurities spilling from your boyfriend’s mouth:

“ _ Ah, shit,  _ baby, that’s it — that’s it... _ fuck!  _ Pretty little mouth feels so fuckin’ good…! Mm—“ He rambles on like that for a few minutes more, you don’t think you can take the persistent urge in your abdomen much longer.

Dio takes another painful fistful of your hair, thrusts becoming erratic until coming to a sudden stop as relief finds him and shoots down your throat, flooding your tongue with the taste of him. “ _ Fuuuuck, _ ” rumbles from his chest, fingers loosening. “Good…that’s my good girl.” 

You swallow what you can, though stray drops leave your lips and dribble down your chin when you pull away. Your hand raises to wipe it clean when it’s caught by a larger one adorned with rings. Dio pulls you from your knees and tugs you into him with a satisfied smirk and swipes his thumb across your chin, collecting his cum and pushing it past your swollen lips. You get the message and wrap them around it, swirl your tongue to clean it all. 

Gently, he cups your face with that same hand as though he hadn’t just fucked your face breathless and holds your stare. His eyes have taken on a much warmer hue, one that reminds you of molten dark chocolate. “Hey,” he murmurs. You feel the hand at the small of your back travel up your spine and unclasp your bra. The straps fall from your shoulders and Dio tosses it behind him carelessly. It’s not the first time you’ve been exposed to him this way, but you can’t help but feel heat in your cheeks (among other areas) with the way those attentive eyes devour your half naked frame. His lips press firmly against yours, tongue delving into your mouth to taste himself. You mewl against him and reach to tug him closer still but to your dismay, he’s retreated. “Go ahead ‘n lay down for me, birdie.”

What choice do you have other than to oblige? 

Still dressed in your jeans and underwear, you find your way to your couch and lay back longways, feeling bashful as you awkwardly strike what’s meant to be a sexy pose. Dio chuckles at this, clearly endeared, but even clearer are his intentions for you. He hasn’t forgotten the promise he’d made, retrieving his switch. You swallow to see him towering over you and moisten your cotton-filled throat at the sight of him now tugging off his thread-worn shirt.  _ God,  _ he was pretty. The many scars strewn about his torso always did remind you of incomplete constellations, waiting to be connected by your tender touch, dotted with kisses. You’re about to complain about your current state of dress when he leans over you, chains dangling, to do away with your pants with a rough tug, taking your underwear down with them. You’re embarrassed at the gasp this causes until you’re face to face with Dio again, his weight on his palms resting beside your arms, knees on either side of your leg with one in between.

“Now, let’s see…” He drawls, knife glinting in low light as it’s brought down to the tendons in your neck. No pressure, but the touch of it alone in your skin is enough to send a current racing through you. His eyes admire the view of you as they search, tongue swiping across his lips and settles on a spot above your left breast. “…Here?” A kiss lands there and you’re sure he felt your heart leap. You make a small noise in your throat. “What was that?” 

The way he looks up at you through dark lashes makes you melt. You can only nod. His smile in return is wicked. 

Dio adds pressure to the point of the blade and drags it down, creating a crisp line of crimson. You suck in a breath when the pain hits, dragging his gaze up to you to confirm you’re alright. You give yourself a moment and nod again, toying with the hairs at the nape of his neck to prod him along. So he continues, completing the first letter and allowing you a break after each one. It stings, but it hurts so  _ good _ and goddammit you love the idea of being marked by him as much as he does. His tongue laps at the drops of blood flowing down your breast, his cock erect and twitching as he relishes in the metallic taste. He then circles your nipple, flicks it with the tip of his tongue and takes it between skilled lips and sucks lightly. You whine and press your head back against the arm of the couch, slicker still in your sensitive folds as he expertly teases you. He massages the one left unattended with warm fingers, tweaking the bud between his index finger and thumb. Your fingernails scratch behind his neck and he hums at the sensation, drawing one from you, too, in harmony. 

He pulls back, kissing your lips this time, accepting your tongue when you offer it. The taste of your blood still resides and it turns you on even  _ more _ (as if that were possible). Your arms encircle him, locked lips and lingering blood making your mind hazy, calves hooking around his waist. You want him as close as humanly possible. You  _ need  _ him. He knows what he does to you and he fucking loves it. No matter how much you whine, so do you. 

“Aw,” huffs Dio, his fringe tickling your forehead. “You a little needy, sweetheart?”

You push your lip out at him, deflating and he laughs. The rare sound of it makes your stomach flip. In response, you move your hips against him, desperate for any kind of friction there. 

Dio flips his switchblade closed and with it still in hand, lowers it, pressing the handle into your clit in tiny circles.

Surprised, you cry out with eyes screwed shut, your back creating an arch, breasts pressing against the firmness of your boyfriend’s chest. “Ohh…” you whimper pathetically. “ _ Dio _ .” To which he chuckles and cruelly stops the movement to do away with the weapon. You want to beg him again, you know damn well that’s what he wants to hear, but his fingers dip back down and one sinks into you. “ _ Oh! _ ” You could cry at how good that felt, grabbing his shoulder blades and burying your face into his neck. 

“Oh, birdie,” he croons, moving his finger out and then back in, then again. “You’re so fucking wet for me already, aren’t you?” In contrast with the tone he’s taken, Dio’s hand moves harsher now, his palm coming into contact with your clit every time he enters you knuckle-deep, slow but shallow. He groans appreciatively as his hand becomes slick and nips at your neck. You swear your grip on him could draw blood; you nearly sob as he fingers you so fucking  _ good,  _ feeding what’s been stirring inside you for what feels like ages now. “I know, baby, I know…” There’s a pause, but only for a moment, so he can add a second and curls the two; the pads of his fingers strike a spot inside you akin to lighting a fuse. He picks up the pace now, sharp jaw of his taut in focus. Until now, you’ve been so deprived, that red hot ball of pressure has gone white — you’re going to snap, you’re going to…

He stops. That bastard, he  _ stops.  _ Right when you’re at the edge. You whimper up at him to see the same fingers in his mouth, tasting you as you had him.

“Mmm…” He hums, making your cheeks heat up, moving to hover above you. Your noses brush, broad hands once again exploring your body — soon to be scars of his name — and he kisses you again. And again. And again. 

“Baby,” you manage between kisses, pulling him nearer behind his neck. “ _ Please. _ ” 

Dio stops at your throat, wrapping fingers around it with a harsh squeeze. “Say it.” It’s a demand, not a request. He lowers his tone to a low whisper, “I want…to hear how you want me to fuck you.  _ Tell me.” _

Your breaths have gone uneven again, shallow with his hand around your neck. “Dio—I-I want you to… _ please _ make me cum.” Dizzy. Your vision’s a blur of red and pure lust.

He only grips harder. “You want me to fuck you so fuckin’ hard you  _ remember  _ my name like the slut you are, hm? That what you wanted all along?”

You squeak out your response, practically writing: “ _ Yes. _ ” 

“Good girl.” 

His lips quirk and he takes a moment to properly align himself, pressing the head in slowly, sweetly in a hiss of breath when he’s fully sheathed. 

The noise you make is shameless, only to be cut off when Dio enters you again with his fingers around your windpipe, free hand tangled with yours. His movements are rough and quick and just what you wanted. His cock fills you perfectly,  _ deliciously  _ despite the crass sounds filling your small apartment. 

“You look  _ so. Fucking. Good  _ like this for me, birdie,” His thrusts punctuate each word, hips meeting yours every time as he fills you up fully, muscles in his arm flexing. “Got my name on you so everyone can see you’re  _ mine, _ ” he growls. “You love my hand around your throat, sweetheart, I know you do…so pretty…so fuckin’ pretty for me…” He’s glowing with a thin layer of sweat and looking so beautiful as he fucks you into the cushions, hair in his eyes that never once leave yours. The pain etched onto your chest, the pleasure and pressure building, all for him, all because of him. You can’t get enough and you don’t know if you ever will. 

“Dio, I-I want to… _ ah!  _ K-kiss you…” 

He leans into the pull of your hand behind his neck, abandoning your hand to haul you flush to him. You grip his shoulders and he kisses you hotly with an open mouth, swallowing your sounds as you do his; they’re addictive to taste, to hear — knowing he wants to give himself all to you, too. Rebuild a world with you. Dio turns your head to the side, hissing into your ear: “Turn around.” 

So you do, him inside you as you maneuver onto your knees. Dio’s hand doesn’t leave your neck, his chest to your back and hips snapping back into motion, smacking your ass as he fucks you mercilessly. His words form between clenched teeth and animalistic growls, able to now bite and suck at your neck at this angle. Now, his cock is able to hit just where you need it to. Your mouth is agape and when his fingers again find your clit you’re unable to hide your sob.

“D-Dio—! God, I’m going to—!”

They leave that bundle of nerves as quick as they’d found it, instead cracking his open palm against your ass. “What was that, baby? Hm?” His fingers are for sure leaving bruises at your neck. 

Your moan is loud though it strains from the pressure and he fucking revels in feeling the vibrations. “ _ Ah, fuck,  _ Dio I’m gonna c-cum! Please,  _ please,  _ baby…!” Roughly, he runs circles into your clit. That’s what pushes you over the edge and you scream what he’s wanted you to all along. “ _ Dio! _ ” Your orgasm shakes you as you come undone around him; his arms hold you up and he fucks you through it. You’re an incoherent mess, oversensitive, dazed and then Dio follows suit with a strangled groan of your name. 

His hand falls and the two of you linger in the moment, breathing each other’s scent. Dio peppers your neck and shoulder with kisses and lays you down over him, couch cushions sinking beneath your combined weight. You feel languid and heavy and at peace all at once, hearing Dio’s heartbeat as you lay there perfectly content on his chest, a mess of tangled limbs and hips fitting together like a puzzle. His lips are at your forehead, fingers drawing patterns on your bare back. You’re about to fall asleep when…

“Birdie,”

“Hm…?”

“We oughta patch that up, don’t you think?” 

“Huh?” Your eyes fall to where his name now sits on your breast. “Oh…” You chuckle lazily.

So does he. 

“Looks good on you.”


End file.
